


The Hybrid of Vulcana Regar

by Esperata



Series: Fairy Tales Retold [4]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Hunchback of Notre Dame (1996) Fusion, Leonard as L'Nel, M/M, McCoy as Vulcan, Pre-Reform Vulcan, Retelling, Vulcan Kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-17
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-16 15:56:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11832075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esperata/pseuds/Esperata
Summary: Vulcan has barely survived their period of barbaric civil wars. Now the people are divided whether to follow logic or emotions.Caught in the midst of this are two individuals, one ruled by his heart, the other yoked by reason, yet drawn together despite it all.





	1. Prologue

**Vulcan**

_2000 years ago_

During the Age of Expansion, Vulcan clans combined forces to protect precious resources such as water and shelter. Civil wars broke out over these, decimating the population.

They were on the brink of annihilation.

Then a Vulcan philosopher by the name of Surak began gaining followers and preaching peace to governments and military leaders. He died in battle but his message of Kol-Ut-Shan carried on.

Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations.

The majority of Vulcans accepted his message of peace and used logic to guide them from unremitting conflict. Some however, did not wish to distance themselves from their emotions. They banded together seeking to follow their own path.

However it was apparent they would never be welcome on their own world.

And so began the Sundering.


	2. Out There

Spock crept across to the window. While this was not actually forbidden, he knew he would be punished for his curiosity about the nonconformists.

But he wanted to hear if the dissident he knew only as the Doctor would be addressing the crowds outside the Ministry of Justice today.

With a thrill he recognised the man’s voice and snuck a glance down to where he was stood.

“You see,” the speaker announced, “I feel sorry for you. Because you'll never know the things that love can drive a man to. The ecstasies, the miseries. The broken rules. The desperate chances. The glorious failures, and the glorious victories. All of these things you'll never know, simply because the word "love" isn't written into your book.”

Spock drunk in the sight of him.

He wasn’t a particularly tall man, nor particularly broad, but he had a forceful personality that drew the eye of every passer-by as he spoke. His voice held a barely restrained passion that rushed his words creating an unusual cadence.

His hair was not long like many of his compatriots but neither was it cut in the regimental style of the followers of Surak. It was brushed clear from his forehead and often as not obscured the man’s pointed ear tips. The hair implied a wildness that was not warranted.

Spock had seen him retrieve a soft toy dropped by a child and speak softly to those who were clearly afraid. He could be gentle when he wished.

Spock’s most treasured memory had been of the day he himself had found himself in a crowd about the man. For one brief instant their eyes had met.

The Doctor had blazing eyes of blue that still haunted Spock even now.

A harsh whistle echoed across the courtyard and in an instant the Doctor had disappeared. Moments later a crew of uniformed guards marched into the plaza.

Spock wasted no time in drawing back from the window and reseating himself at his desk.

Just in time too as his tutor entered seconds later.

“Begin reciting the commandments.”

The man never acknowledged Spock except to correct a mistake so Spock was relieved to have avoided notice at the window.

He began immediately.

“I will not listen to the words of my enemy.” He cast a glance at his tutor but the elder Vulcan gave no sign of anything amiss. Spock continued.

“The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few or the one.” He thought again of the man on the podium.

“There is no other wisdom and no other hope for us but that we grow wistful.”

“Wise,” his tutor spoke curtly. “Grow wise.”

“Yes, of course.” Spock lowered his eyes but the damage was done.

He was aware of the other man crossing swiftly to the window.

“You have been listening to the heretics again,” he concluded.

“I heard a man speaking,” Spock admitted. “But surely the truth cannot be swayed by false words? If they are false.”

He shouldn’t have added that he knew.

“They are false. Logic is the only reasonable path for our people. These… rebels will bring nothing but turmoil. It would be best if they were silenced.”

Spock looked up in alarm.

“But the commandment – Do not kill…”

“As far as possible, do not kill. The needs of the many, Spock,” he was reminded.

The tutor considered his student thoughtfully.

“It is a regrettable situation. We cannot continue to live with them or we risk a return to civil war. The majority of Vulcans accept the new ways.”

“But did not Surak also preach of infinite diversity in infinite combinations?”

“Even Surak would not cage an aylakim with a le-matya.”

Spock lowered his eyes again.

“I suggest you spend an hour in contemplation. If each dissident is capable of corrupting two individuals a day, how long before ten such heretics convert a city of one million to anarchy?”

Gathering his robes about him the tutor left and Spock heard the familiar snick of the door locking.

It took Spock seconds to calculate the answer and then he headed back to the window to look out upon the ordinary people continuing their lives.

Although he knew that wishing was illogical, still he found himself wishing that he could walk out among them. He longed to know what they thought about the dissidents. Did they truly believe them wrong? And more than that, did they truly believe they were not entitled to their beliefs?

Who had they ever hurt? Except in clashes with the guards when they were herded up for the jail cells.

Spock pulled out his concealed pendant and stroked the familiar outline – thumb around the outside circle and up the ridged triangle to the central gemstone. He had few memories from before the Ministry of Justice adopted him but he could recall his father’s voice as he passed Spock the pendant.

“You are unique. Living proof of kol-ut-shan.”

He knew his parents had treasured his uniqueness but to all other Vulcans it was considered an almost insurmountable weakness. Spock did not understand why but he was less able to control his feelings than the others. It was why they kept him here. Safe from the heresies.

Yet he yearned for just one day on the outside.

His tutor’s words came back to him: _“It would be best if they were silenced.”_

Did that mean the ruling council were planning to eradicate the dissidents?

Surely they would not kill so many people, just for holding contrasting beliefs.

_“The needs of the many, Spock.”_

His tutor had as much as confirmed that for the sake of the majority, he would consider it an acceptable loss.

A sense of panic seized him. It was wrong to kill these people, and he would never accept those people who could order such a thing in the name of logic, but it was not that that drove his next decision.

It was the thought of a light dying in blazing blue eyes.

No. Spock could not sit idly by while such a thing happened. As soon as darkness came, he would go out into the city.


	3. Topsy Turvy

Climbing out his window had not presented too much difficulty but, once out in the streets, Spock realised he had no idea where he was going. He had never been further than the ceremonial garden across the centre and only infrequently into the monastery adjacent to the governmental building.

Rumours suggested the rebels had their base in the labyrinth of tunnels that ran beneath the city but Spock hadn’t the first clue about how to reach them.

With no logical way to choose a direction, he opted to head towards the largest visible landmark – the space port outside of the town – so at least he shouldn’t run the risk of getting lost.

His buzzing curiosity about exploring the city swiftly began to give way to a growing concern as he moved further and further into the narrow streets. He couldn’t help but glance at each passing face, wondering if they would somehow recognise he didn’t belong with them. If they too would see he was different.

As he passed by a partially hidden temple his fleeting glance brought him unwanted attention.

“You! You have not paid homage to the Temple of Syrinx.”

He stopped hesitantly.

“I am not a worshipper here,” he explained.

“All must pay,” the man retorted, gesturing to his fellows to block Spock’s passage.

“I have no money.”

“That is what they all say.”

Spock tensed as the nearest two Vulcans moved to grab him.

Then a familiar voice interrupted.

“Even a broken clock is right twice a day.”

The zealots moved back towards the temple as the Doctor strolled into view.

“If he says he has no money, you should believe him.”

“He one of yours?” the leader questioned dubiously.

The Doctor glanced briefly at Spock.

“He’s under my protection,” he confirmed.

“You should keep your pets on a tighter leash.”

So saying the priests disappeared back inside.

“Thank you,” Spock murmured softly.

“They’re a cruel lot,” the Doctor replied. “It’ll be their downfall one day. Come on.”

He led Spock swiftly down some alleyways until they arrived in a well-lit industrial area.

Only then did his rescuer face him properly.

“Thought it was you,” he said with a smile.

“You recognise me?” Spock felt himself blush.

“Sure. Hard to forget those doe eyes. You never came back to the plaza but I saw you watchin’ occasionally. From the ministry window.”

“I am forbidden to leave.”

“Then what brings you out now?” The man tilted his head and Spock’s gaze was drawn to the delicately pointed ear, much finer than his own.

“I had to warn you.” Spock brought his gaze back to the man’s face. “They want to eliminate you all.”

This only brought another smile to his face.

“They’ve always wanted to eliminate us. Don’t want to admit they’re scared we’re right.”

“But this time I believe they are serious.”

“What’s your name?”

“Spock.”

“Well Spock, I’m L’Nel but most people call me Doctor.”

Spock tried to think of what to say but found himself woefully ill equipped for such a social interaction.

“Tell me,” the man stepped closer to Spock. “You’ve been stuck in that place... have you ever actually _lived_?”

Spock swallowed hard as he found himself caught in that intense blue gaze. He shook his head and the other man’s face lit up.

“Then let me show you how _we_ live. Are you hungry?”

“Yes,” Spock replied honestly because his fare at the ministry was based on a minimum allowance.

The man smiled and gestured with his head before leading Spock swiftly down some more alleyways.

It was the smell that struck Spock first. Like nothing he’d ever even imagined and his mouth watered.

“What _is_ that?” he asked, almost awestruck.

L’Nel looked at him in amusement.

“You never smelt kreyla bread before?”

“Not like this.”

The bread Spock had been given had never smelled of anything much. It was hard to eat and he hoped they would be given some water to help soften it.

The Doctor knocked quickly on a hatch and moments later a voice called back.

“What’s the code?”

“Enterprise.”

Seconds later the hatch swung open and a grinning face appeared.

“L’Nel!”

“Kerak. Got anything for a couple of hungry travellers?”

Kerak eyed Spock warily.

“Aren’t you from the ministry?”

“He’s a prisoner there,” L’Nek explained. “Just as we’re all prisoners of the government.”

Kerak obviously accepted that answer. He turned away momentarily and then reappeared with two plates bearing bread and a bowl of something steaming.

“There you go.”

L’Nek led Spock away to a low wall where they could sit and eat.

“What is this?” Spock asked again as he inhaled the fragrant liquid.

“Plomeek soup. Don’t tell me you never had plomeek soup either?”

Spock only shook his head as his mouth was full of bread and soup.

“This is delicious!” he eventually declared.

L’Nek handed him the last of his own bread with a fond shake of the head.

“I don’t understand those officials and their logic,” he said. “We were given full use of our senses. Where’s the harm in enjoying things? The taste of fresh bread? How does that do anyone any harm?”

“Emotions lead to crime,” Spock answered automatically before wincing.

“Some do, sure. But most? There’s so much to enjoy. Why deny everyone that just because a few don’t know when to draw the line?”

Spock knew the rote answer to that but he wasn’t going to say it.

“Why do they call you Doctor?” he asked instead.

“Because I _am_ a doctor. Not allowed to practise anymore though.”

“Because of your political views?”

“Because I wanted to show empathy with my patients.”

L’Nel glanced sideways at Spock.

“Ever seen T’Khut rise over the mountains?” he asked, clearly changing the subject.

When Spock shook his head, L’Nel grinned again and led him away.

The evening was full of wonder to the inexperienced Vulcan. But eventually he had to turn back towards the palace.

“Why don’t you stay?” the Doctor pressed. “Run away. Leave them forever.”

“I cannot. They would search for me and bring trouble to you.”

L’Nel for the first time that night looked sad but he quickly shook it off.

“I have one final thing to show you before you go back.”

They continued towards the ministry but before they reached the plaza the Doctor turned aside and ducked into a small doorway. Inside a stairway carved into stone led the pair up and up until they stepped out into an old attic.

Gesturing for Spock to stay quiet, he led the way forward until they came to an old balcony that ran around the inside of a dome. From below voices echoed up.

“Are they singing?” Spock whispered.

L’Nel shook his head.

“This place captures every sound. Conversations, chants, disagreements… but up here it merges into something mesmerising.”

Spock found himself staring at L’Nel and thought that nothing was so truly mesmerising as this man.

And then the Doctor looked back at him and Spock was struck breathless.

Moments later he felt fingers tentatively brush against his and every nerve in his body flared into life.

“Do you mind?” L’Nel asked quietly.

Spock shook his head and ran his own fingers back along the edge of the Doctor’s.

Seconds later, their fingers were twining about each others’ and Spock knew he’d never experience anything so transcendental again.


	4. The Court Of Miracles

Spock lay upon his narrow bed with its hard thin mattress and for the first time did not care.

He felt alive in a way he never had before. The memory of L’Nel’s fingertips pressed against his made his blood surge hard and fast. There was nothing he wanted so much as to see the other man again.

And that made him both excited and afraid.

He could well imagine what such strong emotion might drive him to and for all his depth of feeling for the man, he didn’t want to be at the mercy of his passions. It had been too long drilled into him that logic should guide his actions.

But did that mean he could not enjoy these new sensations?

Was it not possible to find a balance?

Instinctively he clutched his pendant and ran his finger around it, reciting the phrase like a mantra in his mind. Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations. It was something he’d long held close to his heart. Longer than his tutors had been drilling logic into him.

Perhaps he and the Doctor might retain their differences despite forming an attachment. His own knowledge of logic might help guide the Doctor’s passions. It went against everything the government espoused yet it felt natural to Spock.

The government feared letting the rebels roam free would lead to everyone reverting to barbarians. They did not accept that it might be possible to live together. To learn from each other.

As Spock’s thoughts drifted again to the sights, sounds and experiences he’d discovered with L’Nel, he drifted into a comfortable sleep.

The bells startled him into early wakefulness.

Frowning he staggered up and hurried across to the small window. The bells had been used in time past to signal an attack. But who would be attacking Vulcana Regar now?

He realised his mistake as he peered down to the court.

Guards were herding groups of dissidents into secure trucks. As one truck moved off in the direction of the spaceport Spock saw a young child of no more than 7 years old run after it, crying “Mother!”

One of the armed guards scooped her up under one arm only to be struck viciously in the side by a man hurtling out of the crowd.

Spock recognised L’Nel at once and gave out a cry of distress as he saw the guard swat him away. Seconds later though the guard dropped the girl onto the rebel and the Doctor curled his arms protectively round her.

Another dissident appeared to help him to his feet before all of them were propelled forcefully into another van.

Spock didn’t hesitate any longer.

Pulling on his coarse meditation robes he barrelled down the rickety stairs and snuck his way through the hidden corridors until he could join the crowd in the plaza.

The prison vans were moving efficiently. A new one pulling into place as the previous one set off towards the port. L’Nel’s transport had already gone but Spock still had some time as the guards continued to collect up the rebels.

He set off in as direct a line as he could, making the most of his size advantage to utilise narrow alleyways the vans couldn’t get through. The vans had no pressing need to go fast, so by running the majority of the way, Spock managed to arrive just as L’Nel’s consignment was being unloaded.

Luckily for him, the guards were watching against prisoners breaking out, so no-one stopped him running inside to join the captives.

“L’Nel!”

The Doctor looked up and his eyes glowed with joy at the sight of him. He hurriedly passed the child to Kerak and opened his arms to catch Spock.

“Spock. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again.”

“Spock!”

The harsh voice of the First Minister made Spock glance round fearfully but he did not relinquish his hold.

“Minister,” a new voice interrupted them. “You did not believe me before. Do you believe me now? The evidence is mounting.”

Spock was surprised to see a calm faced individual step out from the group of prisoners, accompanied by a woman who had tears running unnoticed down her face. He wore his hair in the traditional style of Surak while hers was curled uniquely.

The surprisingly unruffled prisoner continued.

“It is not beyond reason to find common ground. It has happened before. It is happening now.” He gestured to Spock and L’Nel. “And it will doubtless happen again. It is illogical to ignore the evidence.”

“It happening is not sufficient cause to allow it. The Vulcan people will be better served by the heretics exclusion.”

“I have warned you. The only true path is to accept Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combinations.”

“Excuse me,” Spock couldn’t help himself. He had to speak. “You speak of IDIC. And of this happening before.”

“Indeed. My wife and I overcame our differences many years ago.” The tearful woman smiled at her husband. “We found strength through our disparity. Yet we were arrested for heresy. Our child was taken from us. The proof that IDIC is more than an ideal.”

Spock drew out his pendant and for the first time the man’s composure looked shaken.

“My father told me I was living proof of kol-ut-shan.”

“My son? Spo’k’hat’n’dlawa?”

The woman moved closer, staring intently at Spock. He was glad of L’Nel’s arm about him lending him support.

Suddenly she smiled.

“You have your father’s eyes,” she declared before embracing him.

“Enough!” The First Minister announced. “He is a half breed and proof of nothing else than that this contagion must be stopped. It has been impossible to teach him logic.”

“You didn’t teach him logic!” L’Nel objected. “You taught him prejudice.”

“Logic is the science of reasoning,” Spock’s father added. “How could you expect him to reason without facts?”

“He had the relevant facts.”

“And who are you to determine ‘relevant’ facts?” His mother declared. “Facts are truth. And you hid the truth of his very existence from him.”

“All this is irrelevant. You will be exiled-”

“No!” L’Nel interrupted. “This isn’t an exile. This is an exodus. We’ll leave but because we _want_ to.”

He turned towards the shuttle and guided Spock forward. As he went though he whispered quietly.

“Is this what you want ashayam? Because you can still stay. If you want.”

Spock brushed his fingers briefly against the Doctor’s.

“I would wish to go with you wherever you go. The fact that my family is also here only confirms this decision to be correct.”

“You’re lucky,” L’Nel replied softly. “Lost all my family long ago.”

Spock stopped at the foot of the ramp to look him in the eyes.

“You may have a new family now. If you want.”

The Doctor searched his eyes and then smiled.

“You might regret bonding yourself to a rebel like me.”

“Never ashayam.” Spock assured him before offering his own teasing smile. “No more than you should regret bonding yourself to a student of logic like me.”

L’Nel laughed and without a backward glance they headed into the shuttle to face their future.

Together.


End file.
